The Age of Rage: An Occupied Response.

On November 10th, 2010, angry student protesters stormed the headquarter of the Conservative Party, 30 Millbank, in violent clashes with the police. This August saw London, Manchester, and other cities in the UK swept by rioting and looting, and yet more violent clashes with the police. Now, in the last few months, flash-points of conflict between protesters and the police as the occupy movement declines to be silenced by the governments of various countries, states and provinces. But, it's not just the students, the looters, or the occupy protesters that are angry, nor even just the police in their often brutal responses. Onlookers are angry too.

Some of these onlookers rain venom on the bankers and politicians: an outrage that we have to bail out the banks, they say. Others are vitriolic in their criticisms of the looters: feral youths engaging in wanton criminality - lock them up, they say. And still more scoff and spit at the protesters: these smelly scroungers need to get a job and stop living off the state, or, if they have a job, they should just shut the fuck up and work like the rest of us. Many private sector workers with pensions are furious with public sector workers for striking to save their pension schemes: we pay for your pensions but can't afford our own - you need to take a hit like the rest of us and stop holding the country to ransom, they say. Public sector workers fume in return: yeah, let's just compare how much more you get for doing the same job I do - then we'll talk about what's fair.

When the cake gets smaller, we're all reduced to fighting over the crumbs.

Well, not all of us, just the majority of us. A few have all the cake they can dream of.

And the majority of us are, then, angry; but more than this, we are angry at each other. We don't just get angry at those who have far more cake than we'll ever see, we get angry at each other. We want more crumbs than the other guy.

So, what to do?

We'll the Buddhist would say reduce your desires, so that you have less need to be angry about the things you haven't got. And try to be grateful for what you have got. Indeed, statistics show that violent unrest and a sense of entitlement are not related to poverty per se but perceived highly unequal distribution of wealth. We are particularly enraged when we perceive a clear gap between what I have and what others have. So, the Buddhist would say stop wanting. That way you won't be angry when you see how much others have compared to you. You'll just be happy with what you've got.


Now, that's all fine and well if you're a monk in a monastery, and you know you'll have fellow monks to take care of you when you're old. Or if you're in your 20s, with a part-time job, with mommy and daddy to fall back on if times get hard. But, what if you're a single man or woman in his 30s or 40s who's thinking, what happens to me when I'm 70 and can't work anymore? I can't afford a private pension on my current salary. I don't have kids who'll take care of me. I can't even afford to buy a house! I can only afford to get from week to week. What then? This isn't just about having desires, this is about feeling safe and secure in our old age, and having the hope that we can move forward. And none of us can thrive, emotionally or socially, without a basic degree of security regarding food and shelter. Thing is, many of us are suddenly realising that despite being in full-time jobs, such basic levels of security are clearly lacking. Even the idea that those who are 20 or 30 now we'll get a basic state pension when they retire is uncertain.

Not surpising then: we're afraid. And yet, we've done what we were told was required of us. We've kept within the law, we've worked hard, we've done our part. And yet, our basic needs might not be met when we are vulnerable. That makes people angry. Scared, and very, very angry. After all, resentment is one of the most powerful motivators. As is fear.

So, having less desires is not the antidote to this collective rage. So, what then?

Well, the occupy movement, on the back of revolutionary new ways to communicate such as twitter and mobile phones, has become something of a network of "anger hubs", where individual rage can collate, build, network, learn, collectivise and empower itself. Basically, the occupy movement sends the message out to all those who are angry: you have a right to be angry - indeed, if you're not angry, you're either not paying attention, or you one of the few, super rich benefactors of the current capitalist model, the notorious "1%". The occupy movement validates anger.

And indeed, the occupy movement has attracted many people from widely diverse backgrounds: the homeless, public sector workers, small business owners, students, social workers, counsellors, the unemployed, the disabled, lawyers, nurses, and many more. All are angry. But, and perhaps not unsurprisingly given the above, the occupy movement has attracted lots of angry criticism too. They're a blight on the city, aesthetically unpleasing to the eye. They're wasters without jobs who should stop indulging their sense of entitlement, and just get a job. They're professional protesters, who have nothing better to do than spark trouble. Or they're not real protesters, because they go home at night and get up for work the next day. Most recently, they're just smelly hippies who need a bath. Beneath all this criticisms, we inevitably sense anger.

We're angry, because we're forced to fight over crumbs.

What the occupy movement suggests, however, is that we shouldn't have to fight over crumbs. The fact is there is plenty for everyone, it's just the case that the few have far more than the rest of us, who in turn don't have enough to feel secure. And that is what makes for the anger we're seeing, not just on the side of the occupiers, but even those who angrily criticise the occupiers. The primal emotion is not anger, perhaps. Perhaps it's fear: I don't have enough, so you better shut the fuck up asking for more, because it might just come out of my pocket. No wonder many then are happy to see police brutality exacted on people fighting for their future. If they don't get more, I'm more likely to keep getting the crumbs I get.  

And that is what makes me angry. I'm angry because it simply doesn't have to be this way. There are multi-billionaires who'll tell you that anyone can be a billionaire, but that's just bullshit, put there to make you feel that it's your fault for not having enough money, even if you're a single mom who struggles to afford child-care if she wants to get an entry level job and work her way up - she's stuck; even if you're a student who comes out of college with £35,000 of debts to pay off and finds he can only get a job in Tescos, stacking shelves for free, with no guarantee of a job at the end. That makes me angry, and rightly so. Money is being siphoned away from the majority of us who are struggling to get by, the 99%, only to line the pockets of those who already have far more than they, or even their kids, will ever need. And at the heart of it, a banking system designed to make money less valuable and products more expensive so it can cash in on interest when people get credit to buy the things they need to survive securely.

It's not right. And in a system that is not just, there is bound to be anger. This anger will surface in many ways: looting, protesting, striking, even trolling. They're all manifestations of resentment, and a deeper fear that there's not enough to go around. But there is enough to go around, it's just that the few have far, far more than the rest of us can even imagine.

The occupy movement makes it clear, then, that until that gap in wealth is reduced, there can be no peace in this, or any other country.

Is a Capitalist Reformation Possible?

In the last two years we've had corporate tax evasion; we've had expenses scandals; we've had students become the next generation of designated debt-bearers as universities embrace business models, tripling fees; we've had the threat of the privatisation of the NHS; we've had the banking crisis, where tax payers bail out banks that print money and keep it in their own vaults, crippling growth; we've had massive cuts across the public sector in order to prop up a flailing financial market, thrashing in the history of its own excesses; but, more important than all this, we've had a movement determined to repeatedly highlight all these disturbing truths, to connect them and emphasise them, to make meaning from them. Thanks in large part to the occupy movement capitalism is currently under the spotlight, surgically pinned in stark vivisection.

The question arises, then, as we gawp at capitalism close up, its guts on show for all to see: can such an organism provide for society in general, or is it by nature designed to provide for the few, by robbing the many?

Clearly, capitalism has become something monstrous, destructive, but for some, it hasn't always been this way.

For some, like Richard Branson, capitalism used to be benevolent:

"I truly believe that capitalism was created to help people live better lives, but sadly over the years it has lost its way a bit. The short-term focus on profit has driven most businesses to forget about the important long-term role they have in taking care of people and the planet."

Richard Branson believes that it is possible for capitalism to once again work for the people, but can we believe such a statement? Has capitalism lost our trust? Can capitalism reform itself? If it can, how? And if it can't, what then? Are there even any other viable options? Have we created a monster that now seeks to destroy society? Have we lost control? Or can we rein in this beast, domesticate it, so that it serves all of us, and not just the few?

The occupy movement, it seems to me, is quite understandably split on this issue. Some are angry that the movement has been repeatedly addressed as an "anti-capitalist movement" when in fact no such consensus has been reached; many seek to merely regulate capitalism, as opposed to seeking its total dismantlement. What it's total dismantlement would look like, as a working model, remains to be adequately detailed. For sure, the occupy movement is experiencing its own dialectic on this issue. For others to expect unity here is not only unrealistic, it's unhelpful. The question needs to be explored thoroughly. 

The question "can capitalism be reformed?" is an incredibly important question, because if the answer is yes, then perhaps we could start from there and seek to regulate, or better still, convince businesses to freely, willingly think beyond mere profit. If Richard Branson is being genuine and not just indulging the "ethical" market, like the Co-Operative Bank has done, then perhaps there is hope for capitalism. Perhaps it can find its soul; but that remains to be seen. And if the answer is no, if it becomes apparent that capitalism cannot be reformed, what then? Can it be dismantled? Can it be replaced? And if so, replaced by what, and by what means? Government policy? Revolution?

These questions and more are what now fills the minds of the many, as we collectively peer into the pulsing innards of this beast called capitalism, lying splayed in vivisection upon the operating table. Standing around this creature, studying it, we are faced with the question: what kind of animal is capitalism? Can it be tamed, and if not, can it be terminated?

Metaphor for use by the Occupy Movement

It doesn't have to be a race to the bottom:

Imagine a multi-story building. On each floor there's the same amount of people, but as you get higher in the building each floor has more food, and it's better quality. So, for example, people on the 20th floor have plenty of food, they never run out, and it's pretty good quality. On the top floor, you've got highly luxurious food, and they've so much they're throwing buckets of it away everyday.

Now, on the 5th floor, there's not really enough food, so everyone is kind of fighting for their share, and even then, it's pretty crap quality. People below the 5th are pretty much hungry all the time. Get the picture?

Now, imagine you found yourself on the 4th floor. Of course, you want to be, you know, up there.

But, here's the thing. Instead of saying, 'Hey, why don't people on the top floor share all the food they don't need?' or even 'Hey, the people on the top floor have way more than us!' many people actually say 'That guy on the 5th floor is struggling, but hell, he's got more than me." They say this because if they work in the private sector the other guy has a state pension! Or, if they work in the public sector, they other guy gets paid more for doing the same job. So, on both sides, they say about they other guy (or gal) 'He should be down here with me, with the rest of us on the 4th floor.'

Is that smart?

I don't think so; because the folks on the top floor see all this in-fighting and laugh at such divisiveness. And they stoke the petty resentments, they fuel the division between public and private sector. After all, the more in-fighting there is, the less united people are against them.







[Post Script

The Occupy Movement represents a group of people on the lower floors, united against those on or near the top floor. They're not interested in petty squabbles between groups on the lowest floors, whether it's worse, for example, to be paid less, and get a heavily cut pension, or to be paid more and have no pension at all. They want to form a united front, the 99% of people forced to struggle on scraps and credit, against the 1% who have far more than they need and control the assets you live in (homes) and on (businesses and banks).]

Painful Learning: Being Occupied by Feminism

Personal growth is rarely pain-free, and my current brush with the Occupy Movement in Bristol is no exception, it having seriously challenged me to look at my values and alter my approach to the issue of marginalised groups in society. 

One major challenge, to be detailed in this blog entry, is realising how women are treated in society, and by me, and how men, like me, often feel as if we have a right to tell women what to do. Take my humiliating, and humbling, experience below.


Who am I to....

Last week, I stumbled upon a blog by Marina S on "Portable Safe Spaces and Occupying the Occupation" via the #OccupyBristol Twitter Feed.

The blog clearly outlined a problem: women were not feeling safe on the Occupy Bristol site. It clearly proposed one possible solution: women could form a closed group on the site, a group that would aim to maintain a certain number of women in that group at all times. In this way, the blog concluded, no single woman would be made to feel vulnerable. Simple, right?

Wrong. Along comes an arrogant, meddling, white privileged male ass (me) with a response that went something like:

I think this idea is great, but it sounds like the group is women-only. I'm a feminist man, and I would like to offer my support. (I have since deleted this post as I was too ashamed to leave it up.)

Essentially, though I hadn't seen it yet, I had said:

But, what about me? What about men?

For now, I simply felt as if I was offering constructive criticism, as no doubt other men also felt who made their own suggestions, only to find themselves met with cutting replies, replies that were venomous, scathing, enraged.

I was left shocked, stunned, baffled by these responses, not just from Marina, but others too. My replies detail this disbelief and are still available to see. They chronicle my struggle to see Marina's point of view, my struggle to understand why Marina was so upset. On top of my confusion, clouding my mind, was my ego, deeply bruised, revolting against the public scolding. I spent a sleepless night and a tense day turning over in my head what I had said, and how Marina had responded. Surely, I hadn't said anything that bad. Surely...

Thankfully, I brooded. I took a look around. I came across another blog by Marina, her SlutWalk Bristol speech, which, apart from being passionately and brilliantly written, refers to the harsh fact that there are 94,000 rapes in the UK every year. Accounting for repeat victimisation, that means 55,000 women are raped - every year. The worst thing about this figure is that a third of people will believe that the woman was somehow to blame for being raped. Surely the only person to blame for the rape is the rapist, right? Apparently not, according to popular opinion, because if she flirted she's partly to blame, or if she was too drunk, she's partly to blame. In any case, here was a reality I did not have to think about every day of my life. I was not vulnerable to being one of these 55,000 rape victims. Why? Because I am a man.

So, now I had some numbers, some facts. Uncomfortable facts. I still struggled to understand what was wrong with my comments, though. Why had I provoked Marina to reply so aggressively? What, if anything, had I done wrong? I was tempted to dismiss her as an angry feminist, but no, that was too easy. I wanted to understand.

I continued looking around, clicking through links on Marina's pages, and so on. Then, my next deeply educational moment came along, via an article I found, unapologetically titled, 'Dick Privilage'. Here, the author, Forty Shades of Grey, addresses Richard Dawkins, who attempted to downplay, indeed deny, the reality of Rebecca Watson's discomfort when she was propositioned at 4am in an empty elevator by some guy, after having given a talk on how uncomfortable it made her feel to be sexualised. Forty Shade of Grey speaks to Richard, thus:

You don’t get obscenities shouted at you in public because you dare to be out of the house while in possession of a vagina. You don’t get men refusing to move out of your way at work so you have to rub up against them to get somewhere you need to be immediately. You don’t get forced to not wear a top you like because it’s a bit low cut and the last time you did a customer literally stared at your tits for two hours solid. You don’t get patronised because your reproductive organs are on the inside. You don’t get seen as a being that is only good for sex one minute and reviled the next if you dare to reveal yourself as a sexual being. You don’t get forced into choosing between a career and a family. You don’t get told that you won’t succeed because of those pockets of fat and muscle on your chest. You don’t get treated as a member of a minority group when you in fact, form the majority of the population. You don’t get accused of being a hysterical, over-emotional, boring bitch when you don’t want to fuck someone and you don’t want to be propositioned for sex at 4 in the morning in a hotel after you JUST SPOKE about how uncomfortable this made you feel. You also, and I can not make this clear enough, do NOT FUCKING GET to tell people who this stuff actually happens to on a daily basis how to feel.

Something clicked: it was the 'you don't get to tell her how to feel'. Marina's reply to me came to mind:

John: oh my god. Why did you have to barge into this conversation and demand to be catered to? I am apoplectic with rage at you right now, for smearing your privilege like a turd all over my monitor. It will be up to the women in the group to decide what your role is, it is NOT for you to make a case. Argh. (emphasis added)

I saw, vaguely, that I was trying to have a say about something I had no personal experience of and had no real right to direct. More than that, there was something about control here. Forty Shades of Grey has quite clearly painted a picture of a woman not in control of her environment, her culture. She had no control over being seen as less-than within her society. Then, along comes me, white privileged male, who's never experienced such marginalisation, misogyny, and abuse, convinced I should have a say in what Marina's group do or do not do in order for them to feel safe.

A rather simple idea was slowly dawning on me: Women, just because they're women, feel less safe than men, because men are convinced that they have a right to dominate women, just because they are men.

And what was I doing? I was trying to tell Marina what to do. Oh, Christ, I thought, I think I get it. I was mirroring the problem, not the solution. My values, which I had assumed beneficent and relatively progressive and egalitarian, began to reveal themselves as nothing other than "privileged". Even though I wasn't telling Marina what to do because I thought she was less than, I was still trying to tell her what to do within a culture of male privilege which has for centuries dominated her as a woman, just because she is a woman. Her rage, I realised, was perfectly understandable.

Finally, it was the following analogy, contained in the comments of Forty Shades of Grey's blog:

An analogy: For arguments sake, take it as a given that only 0.01% of the handguns in the world are loaded.

You're in a lift, with a man. He pulls out a pistol, cocks it, and aims it at your head.

Do you decide it's statistically okay, and that no harm will come to you, or do you worry, at least a little bit, that you might be about to have your head blown off.

The pistol is analogous to a cheesy pick-up line from a stranger in a cramped place, with no exits.

An unloaded pistol is a line from a man who doesn't intend to take things further if a woman says no.

A loaded pistol is a line from a man who intends rape.

Question: How do you tell the difference and if you can't, why would the perceived possible-threat from the unloaded-gun man be non-zero?

This ended, for me, some decades long tensions I had been carrying, often emerging in angry deabtes with my feminist partner, about how I always felt insulted and outraged when women talked about men as rapists. But I'm a man, I'd say, angrily. And I'm not a rapist. I don't want to be seen as a rapist! But, now I was thinking: And? What's your point, John? Some men are rapists, clearly. And quite a few actually, if 55,000 women get raped every year. Women don't know which man is the rapist, and which man is not. It's not for you, John, like Dawkins, to go about demanding women not feel scared of you, or uncomfortable, because you're not a rapist. They do feel scared, uncomfortable, unsafe, because some men are rapists.

It was all falling into place.

I was seeing differently, but I was also behaving differently: Walking across the road, I noticed a women walking along the path I was about to join. It was dark. Previously, I wouldn't have thought anything about it, and, as she was a little ahead of me, I would have ended up walking behind her, only to feel annoyed by the thought 'maybe she feels scared by me walking behind her' because I don't want to be seen as a rapist. This time, however, I simply accepted that she might feel uncomfortable if I ended up walking behind her on a dark street with not many people around. So, I sped up a bit and joined the path walking in front of her. End of problem. Simple. Afterall, which is more important, my desire to not be seen as a potential rapist, or her fear that I might be just that, a rapist?

Naturally, I hesitated a while before openly apologising to Marina on her blog - blasted pride! - but I found myself arguing against other men who were making comments similar to my original remark: telling Marina how she and her group should be on the Occupy Bristol site.

All of this, of course, was a very humbling experience. I still feel rather uncomfortable about it. As a counsellor, Health Care Assistant and Support Worker, I had hoped to be more aware and sensitive to the experiences of the marginalised, having worked with the sexually, emotionally and physically abused, people seen as having "mental health issues," and people with learning difficulties. All these people are to some extent excluded or marginalised by society. I had even called myself a feminist! But, I had discovered just how much my privilege had blinded me to their experience.

I feel very grateful for Marina's replies to my initial stupidity, in that their venom catapulted me into serious internal conflict. I am very aware, however, of how difficult it was for me to see something so very obvious, that I was trying to dominate Marina, that I felt somehow privileged to do this, when actually I should have simply supported Marina in her aim to feel safe in a movement she wished to support, in whatever way she and her group thought best. Afterall, they are the one's who feel unsafe, not me. That's troubling, that I was so basically blinded.

I'm glad though, that there are others like Marina out there, who are prepared to take a stand against idiots like me, to challenge us, in whatever way they see fit, to change the way we approach the whole issue of gender privilege in society. Thank God, there are such people!

So, finally, I would just like to say how grateful I am to all the people involved in this change in my perception, the men and women who wrote the blogs and comments that came together to bring about this altered perception. I plan to keep a watchful eye on myself in this regard in the future. And also, within the Occupy movement and beyond, I plan to simply support women, and other marginalised groups, to express themselves in whatever way they see fit, and, basically, to avoid sticking my oar in where it doesn't belong.

I am deeply sorry.

Words: Powerful Propaganda Tool or Vehicle of Truth?

Observe the media, politicians, and big business and we see that this is the age of propaganda and non-truth, but are we then to join the spinners and weavers of words, or are we with greater vigour determined to counter-balance such myth-makers with honesty and truth?

A genuine question!

In an age when the powerful say what is useful, leveraging, and self-serving, ought we to join in the game and use words in an equally pragmatic way, as useful, leveraging, and self-serving, abandoning truth as we do so?

Indeed, are words anything more than propaganda tools? Is "truth" in itself merely a useful term, a leveraging and self-serving use of words?  I don't genuinely believe it is. I believe there is truth. There is truth in the sense of authenticity, being true to oneself, and also, there is truth in the sense of words representing empirical data.

Yet, despite this, despite my belief in truth, this doesn't answer the question, alternatively asked: Am I obliged to be truthful, when I'm surrounded by the powerful who use non-truth as propaganda, words as merely useful, leveraging, and self-serving?

Of course, if I were to "join" them, the only difference between us then would be our motive, our agenda. My words would be "useful," "leveraging," and "self-serving" in the sense that they seek to achieve my own agenda of weakening the capitalist economic model. Our values and ends would differentiate us, though our means would be the same.

Finally, I am aware that being authentic, being true to oneself, does not demand that I adhere to speaking only what is empirically true. I might become duplicitous. I might, for example, on the one hand be true to myself, by answering my heart-felt call for justice in the face of the current economic depravity of unregulated capitalism, whereas on the other, I might abandon empirical truth by, for example, propagating false or misleading statistics that would serve me in my aim to create a more equitable society. I would be fighting smokescreens with smokescreens, while all the time remaining mirror-clear about my true values and soul-feelings.

Let me give you an example. Here's a metaphor I came across today. It describes the current psychological situation of most middleclass people in Western capitalist society: "When the cake gets smaller, we're reduced to fighting over crumbs. Time to take over the bakery..."  

Now, this metaphor serves my purpose, in that it proposes "taking over" the way in which capitalism is run. It also accurately captures the reality of what Nietzchse desribed as "resentiment". It's concise. It's smart. It's powerful. However, there is a catch. The metaphor is incomplete, and ignores certain empirical realities. For example, even if we did take over the bakery, we still wouldn't control how much the raw materials cost, the flour, the oil. In a world of limited resources and an increasing population, prices are destined to rise, and so a cake for the same price is bound to get smaller. So, our metaphor collapses.

Now, here's the rub: I can choose to use this metaphor duplicitously, by ignoring this detail, because it would nevertheless help me achieve my agenda of more firmly regulating capitalism; even if to do so I know I am not being fully "honest". 

For sure, feminist, anarchist, and activist theories often bring this to the table, giving a kind of nodding smirk towards duplicity as poltical power.

So, the question is: Is it OK to be duplicitous, to deliberately spread and disseminate half- or non-truths in order to achieve one's authentic agenda? 

I do not know...

A Letter to my MP, Stephen Williams (Lib Dem)

Dear Stephen,

I would just like to say that I am very disappointed that you voted "yes" on the NHS bill: http://www.publications.parliament.uk/pa/cm/cmtoday/cmdebate/c_22.htm. Indeed, I was under the impression that you were going to vote against it. I had previously forwarded you two petitions from 38Degrees on the dangers of this bill being passed, and you indicated in your reply to them that you'd be voting against it, that you were "against the changes to the NHS". (http://www.38degrees.org.uk/page/content/NHS-legal-MPs-replies). You have seemingly, at the last minute, changed your mind.

It now seems to me and others that the Liberal Democrats would rather stay in power at any cost than stand by your own party's principles and leave the coalition; I, amonst many others, have lost faith in the Liberal Democrats as a viable option to the conservatives.

Next election I will be voting Labour, and in the mean time I will be doing everything in my power to protest, demonstrate and uphold my civic duty to stand by the vulnerable and less well off in society. This is unlike the coalition party, who seems intent on helping the rich get richer (eg. recent executive wage rises are 63%) while the less well off get poorer (eg. average worker wage rises are up only 27%, though this hardly matches the rising cost of living) (http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-14781254).

That this "recession" is being used to rob the lower middle classes of money and services, including youth centres, and transfer that money to the rich is frankly disgusting. That the tax payer is paying for the banking industry's greed, with no hope of ever being repaid, is disgusting. That the government is 'pausing' its attempt to regulate the banking industry at the banking industry's request is distrubing. That you do not agree with the EU Robinhood tax, is baffling. That you have made an agreement with Switzerland over Tax Havens that does not remove account secrecy and essentially legitimates tax avoidance is astounding (compare this with India's deal: http://www.thehindubusinessline.com/industry-and-economy/banking/article2397144.ece?%20homepage=true. For more see: http://johnmcguirk.blogspot.com/2011/08/tax-havens-and-swiss-deal.html

In short, the government seems to have no metal in standing up to the unethical and self-serving nature of big business. So, perhaps it is time for the people to do so for themselves, through protests and civil disobedience, of the kind we saw last year, with occupations of shops who seemingly avoided their taxes.  

I'm no expert, Stephen, but all of this boggles the mind. This is capitalism gone way out of control. I'm sure you feel you know more about the inner workings of politics, where compromise is important. But to voters, this just looks like daylight robbery.

And I see no other option but to protest this government's and your decision as aggressively as I legally can.

The liberal democrats have lost their heart in my view. You all would do better standing down and sharing power with Labour as a strong voice of disapproval of the current state of affairs. 

Yours etc...

Tax Havens and the Swiss Deal

I highly recommend Richard Murphy's recent blogs on the coalition's attempt to make a deal with the Swiss government, which essentially means big businesses who try to evade paying their taxes by using tax havens abroad will not pay the 20, 40 & 50% tax that we individuals have to, but rather, closer to a meagre 3.75% tax.

Now, it's up to you whether you think this is fair, that an individual citizen has to pay 20 - 40% tax on their income while a big business has only to pay 3.75% tax.

Have a read of Richard's blog and see what you think. I admit the situation is a complex one. Richard sees this as the coalition's attempt to scupper the EU's attempt to completely do away with tax havens by demanding an end to the secrecy that is the basis of Swiss banking. Others see this as the UK's attempt to at least get some tax back (a mere 3.75%!), arguing that the EU's deal was never going to happen. Richard is adamant that one way or the other this is legitimising criminality. In that, he is totally correct. He is also correct in arguing that this is one major way the rich filter money from the poor to the rich, as such "breaks" are not available to the typical worker/individual income earner. (Swiss banks usually have a £100,000 deposit limit etc.).

So, personally, this is a reason to get angry, and do something.

On a final note, I find Richard often has what feels like a rather rude manner, but I essentially agree with his fundamental point: Tax Evasion is a crime, and the government's latest attempt to cut a deal with the Swiss effectively legitimates criminality. If looters get 6 months for robbing 6 bottles of water, how come businesses get away with robbing millions of pounds worth of taxes from us, UK citizens, every year? It doesn't make sense. We need to have a level playing field, and soon! So, just ignore his rudeness, or what he calls his "robust" responses. His heart's in the right place. Bless.

Here's a place to get started: Let’s not get personal – this is a matter of right or wrong by Richard Murphy

And if you are in any doubt about options available to the uk governemnt see the following link:

This link shows how India was able to sign an alternative deal to the uk-swiss treaty.

Save the NHS from commercialism...

Sign this petition if you don't trust big business to put quality of care before private profits.

In a few days your MP has to vote on the biggest proposed changes to our NHS since 1948. But 38 Degrees members now have something our MPs don’t – thorough, independent legal advice about what these changes really mean.

If we all email our MPs now, they’ll be forced to take these legal opinions seriously. Liberal Democrat MPs like yours are being told by their bosses that the NHS is safe. Together, we can arm them with the facts and make sure they vote to save our NHS.

Can you take 2 minutes now to email your MP and inform them about the findings?

http://www.38degrees.org.uk/page/speakout/email-your-lib-dem-MP